TFATH: Awakenings
by Your-enigma
Summary: A continuation of The Fox and the hound. We focus on Tod's offspring, respectfully named Copper by his father. Romance, drama, madness, music, shovels, love, mountain foxes and red lions? Take a peek, new chapters may be on the horizon...
1. Rude Awakenings

On the brink of a small chasm, at the edge of the forest, a lone fox sits motionless, deep in thought. He was a most curious creature, blessed with the perception and sensitivity of a loving mother; the wit and somewhat disheveled appearance of a…loving father. Yet never had there lived a fox in these woods with a more somber disposition.

This was the one and only son of Tod and Vixey. Not six. Just a single child. Vixey was no doubt overjoyed, yet her mate feared the prospect of parenthood and this apprehension manifested itself in his actions. A seemingly neglectful parent?; or simply a man with love he struggled to divide? The boy often contemplated this.

The boy's name? Copper, in honor of a friendship long lost, yet never forgotten. At seven month's of age (about 15 human years, give or take) he demonstrated uncanny intelligence and creativity yet there was something holding him back. A subtle ringing in the ears if you will. Both captivating and enigmatic, it kept him awake in the nights and restless in the days. The songs of an unknown source.

But enough banter, We'll let the story speak for itself.

Chapter 1- Rude awakenings.

Copper sat upon the Cliffside overlooking the valleys below, his mind constantly wandering, a pensive pool of thought. The trees stretched their fingers in an umbrage over him, enveloping him in shadow. He gazed forward, looking past the grassy fields, the sun-kissed lake, those two miserable houses in the background. Yes, he knew them well. Since his early most childhood, this was his consolation. A place of refuge from his unfortunate reality.

His father was something of a disappointment, each day of his life; a demonstration of his neglect, his absolute ignorance. Tod's infatuation with his sweet lover, Vixey. How charming. How absolutely adorable, that those two are a proverbial match made in heaven, he thought. That he continued his frolicking courtship 7 months after Copper's birth. Did his existence mean nothing to him, a mere misfortune in the light of a beautiful relationship? Or was he in fact an accident? These muses were sporadic and hostile. Copper had to catch himself in the midst of a rage.

Mentally exhausted by his anger he rested his head on the ground. His eyes closed slowly, yet in the depths of his mind…there it was again! That strange noise, unlike anything he's ever physically heard in the forest. There was a pattern to it, various pitches both high and low. It was delightful to listen to though he knew not where it came from nor what it was. He out grew the fearful reactions from his youth and embraced the noise allowing it to lull him into a light sleep, relinquishing all his contempt.

In the nearby underbrush only a few yards from the burrow, Vixey stared at her son inquisitively. His sadness had seemingly infectious effect upon her. She felt a light pressure to her left. Tod slowly caressed her as he drew his head near to her's. It was only at this point that he realized he was not the object of her attention. He followed her eyes, finally catching a glimpse of his son near the cliffs edge.

Vixey stirred and coaxingly spoke to Tod,

"Perhaps you should speak with him? It's unhealthy for him to always be so depressed al the time." Her face expressed a sense of maternal concern, something with which he struggled to relate.

Tod smiled resting is head upon hers. "Vixey, you know it isn't your fault. It isn't anyone's fault," he leaned closer, "You can't let this get to your head now can you?"

Vixey was unconvinced, pushing Tod away from her. "Honestly, he isn't well. But you still just lazily meander about the forest, uncaring! It about time you took some responsibility!" Her tone was more commanding, her voice almost quivering. "You are his father."

Tod was silent. It wasn't so much the state of his son but rather the concern of his wife that carried him over to the Cliffside. He looked down, his son lay motionless, only subtle signs of breath every few seconds or so.

"Well, he's still breathing…" Tod chuckled slightly aloud.

"Not funny…" Copper was hardly asleep, "Had you taken the time to check, you might have noticed I was awake."

Words seem to fail Tod at this point, partially shocked by his own actions, the words of his son, or perhaps flat-out embarrassment.

"Have you come to console me father, to assess my sadness?" Copper avoided eye contact with Tod, focusing on the horizon.

"One of those man to man talks? You're 7 months late…" Copper was purposefully sarcastic in a most belligerent manner.

Tod's silence finally broke, "You mother and I.., well we are concerned about you." He stumbled clumsily over his words.

"Oh really?" Copper sat up. "This IS a new development."

"Honestly son, I just can't understand it. Your mother and I love you more than anything in the world." He inched closer to his son. "You know that."

"Apart from yourselves of course." Copper was suppressing his anger.

"Now stop that. You know I…"

"Honestly dad," Copper interrupted, "I have grown weary of your attempts to understand me, more than likely a product of mom badgering you to death... at least someone cares." Tod remained rather dumbfounded.

"If you really loved me you would have at least pretended to be concerned years ago. One of these talks would have showed me how you feel." Copper diverted his eyes to the valley below again.

"Maybe then you'd understand the noise, the strange thoughts, and the… the noise." "Maybe we would have been closer."

"You said noise twice." Tod tried to lighten the mood. "And by "years" you mean months. You're just 7…"

"Oh PLEASE just stop. You're not helping at all." Copper hardly appreciated the humor.

"Listen, if you'd just give me a chance to…" Tod struggled to explain.

"7 months dad, you had 7 months, that's a lot of chances." "An awful waste, don't you think?" he tilted his head to the side derisively.

Tod stared blankly, his mouth agape, the realization was coming to him.

"Seeing as you haven't anything else to say..." Copper picked himself up and stretched his legs. He then started towards the valley, tiring of the argument.

"Where are you going?" Tod attempted to coax him back.

Copper stopped for a moment, then continued on.

"It doesn't matter does it? Tell mom I'll be back before dark."

Tod contained his pain and confusion, desperately seeking to console his son he called out, "We both love you,… I love you. No matter what you think, and nothing will change that…" he slowly lowered his voice before finishing.

Copper continued, feigning to be out of earshot. Not once did he look back.

Tod slumped back to the old shady burrow; a new sense of paternal guilt overwhelmed him.

"Maybe…maybe Copper was right…" he thought aloud. Tod for the first time began to acknowledge his less than perfect parental abilities.

"But it wasn't like I expected the pregnancy. It was a surprise to both of us...for me at least. A…pleasant surprise no doubt…"

"Who are you talking to dear?" Tod, deep in thought, was unaware of Vixey resting in the burrow.

"Um…myself I guess…" he was somewhat embarrassed by her inquisition.

She turned around, vaguely searching with her eyes. "Where's Copper?"

"He took a walk." In his guilt ridden state, Tod hoped to change the subject.

"What, he just up and left? You let him just walk off?" Her agitation mounted. "You know about…oh what's his name, that hunter in the area, and those dogs, or other wild animals..." Vixey's mind was a torrent of anxiety.

"I sure he'll be fine. He said he would be back here before dark." "I did talk to him though." Tod quickly exclaimed.

"So…how did it go…?" Vixey questioned him, half sighing.

"Oh, you know. I mean…he's just having one of those "teenager things." "The raging hormones and what not…I guess…yea." He tried to remain short with her. She didn't need ALL the details.

"Is that what he said?" Vixey continued to question him, facing him directly now.

"Well…" Tod searched for the words. "No, but it was just plain obvious, it's something we all went through…you know."

"Funny…I can't recall a time when "I" went through that "phase"." She playfully pantomimed quotation marks with her paws.

"You can't recall much of anything when you don't want to, can you?" Tod teased. His tone changed as he regained eye contact with Vixey, seductively running his paw along her side.

"Do you remember when we first met?" He made his efforts to redirect her attention clear; continuing to advance, not once losing sight of her.

"Heh...how could I forget." She attempted to push him away. "What with your pathetic flirtation, stumbling over words, staring blankly, FORGETTING YOUR NAME." She was making an obvious effort to sabotage his mood with sarcasm. Yet Tod continued, his paw now running down her tail, along the outside of her leg. Tiptoeing…slowly…

"Stop it!" she commanded, half giggling. "Now's not the time." Though the shy smile on her face spoke to him otherwise.

"I seem to remember something else…" Tod shook his head. "…the most amazing night of our lives maybe?" Their noses were now nearly touching. Vixey's breath grew heavy; beads of sweat ran trails down her forehead. Her eyes darted desperately, searching for an escape.

"Shall I…jog your memory?"

Tod took another step towards her. Their lips met in a brief kiss, yet Vixey pulled away in a snap. She turned her head, diverting her eyes to the exit of the burrow, her heart raced.

"No…we shouldn't…" she begged gently.

Tod pulled her closer, covering her lips with his paw. "We can…"

Copper wandered aimlessly through the country-side. The landscape was indeed beautiful, however his mind was elsewhere.

"Love…is he serious?" he felt silly even considering his father's words, yet he couldn't help but ponder. Truth is, that was the first time he had ever heard Tod use such words used to address him.

"Oh honestly, it was so… superficial…but still." He tried to rebuke such thinking from entering his mind. It didn't matter anyway. He had his chance. Too many in fact.

The memories of neglect, the pains of being ignored, they had taken their toll indefinitely. Since…well…as long as he could remember he never had been the center of his attention. Tod would waltz about the forest with his Vixey, carefree and ignorant, usually leaving Copper behind in the burrow.

Yet, Vixey did try her best. Copper always acknowledged her parental efforts, even on those occasions when she seemed less than perfect. After all, it was always Vixey who attempted to console him, to pick him up when fallen. The love was there, no doubt, she loved him. And she rarely hesitated to show it.

Tod however, was another story completely. He loved Vixey, granted. Perhaps a little too much. Secretly, Copper always believed his existence was something of an accident, at least in the perspective of his father. He strongly doubted Tod anticipated a pregnancy, much less desired one. It was painful, living with such a mindset.

But that was enough self-pity. He knew too well the results of such an attitude. He continued he walk, his mind slowly quieting. But it was then that the noise resumed, louder than before. But there was something different about it. It was no longer coming from his overactive subconscious, constantly playing tricks. This was real. It had a presence.

"Nope, forget it." Copper attempted to ignore these sounds. "You're going mad. There's nothing there." But the sound persisted, a most beautiful sound.

"No, this can't be a figment. This is real, it is." Copper was more intrigued by the noise. In his curiosity, he began to walk towards the source. His senses overwhelmed, his vision became blurry, his eyes slowly beginning to tear. It was horrifying and beautiful. As he walked the sound became more distinct with greater definition. It cradled his ears. His pace quickened. He could wait no longer. This had plagued him for the extent of his life, this clandestine beauty. He had to know, he had to at least understand what creature could produce such harmony. He was sprinting now, the sound growing ever louder. He stumbled over fallen branches, deadened leaves. Overcome with passion he closed his eyes, guided only by his ears, nearly reaching the source.

Suddenly he was halted dead in his step, his head colliding with a blunt object. It threw him back to the ground. The sound had ceased. Shaken and mortified, Copper feebly opened his eyes…


	2. Till Death do us Part?

Back by (moderately) popular demand!

Chapter 2: Till Death Do us Part?

Margaret was a most ambiguous character in a certain sense. Her attitude was as variable as was her cooking though you have to give an arm and a leg to tell her so. She was young, of a tender 26 years old, though she actively struggled to hide her shocking wrinkle which invariably marked the sides of her jaw. She was blonde, as blonde as they come and none to proud of it surprisingly, it was for this reason that she always managed to keep it of surprisingly short length. Her figure was small and frail and her smile, subtle, tempting yet enigmatic. She could be accurately described as a bohemian yet loathes such a label.

Artistic when she wants to be; she always found time to be pretentious and critical of everything around her. This coupled with her innately unpleasurable disposition and, how do you say…less than satisfactory cooking abilities is exactly what professional starving artist Arthur Rochester did not expect.

Love. It's funny how it seems to wind its path. Arthur met Margaret at his former conservatoire in London, immediately attracted by her talent, argumentative spirit, and beautiful complexion. And even after four stress-ridden years together, riddled with bumps and bruises, the truth was, he just simply could not think of life without her. It was sweet…and rather pathetic really.

Life in the Rochester household had been rather uneventful after the move from London. Why they chose life in the southwestern American countryside is just as much a mystery of spontaneity as it was a part of financial stratagem. You see, Arthur _really was_ a professional starving artist. After leaving the school, he and Margaret proved to be part of the 30 of students who failed to find efficient employment. Needless to say, he was nevertheless a very talented, if not slightly timid musician. Margaret…well…she is another story altogether.

It was however on this day that life for the Rochester's would change dramatically, for it was at that exact moment as Arthur was seating himself at the bench, Margaret in the kitchen, the there was a sudden, and particularly violent knock upon the door. So violent in-fact, that it caused Arthur to leap from his bench, dropping various pieces of sheet music, a mug, among other trivial objects. Margaret's reaction was typical of her character.

"Arthur, could you get the door?" her voice rose in pitch as she spoke, then dropped to a murmur, "_Bloody solicitors_…" she proceeded to chop the onion that was currently pressed upon the table with several slow, clumsy strokes, muttering incoherently.

Arthur was a bit jarred by this remark as he struggled to his feet, gravely agitated by the mess he made. He rolled his eyes as he bent down to pick up the sheets of music now covered in blisteringly hot tea. He coiled his hand in pain and shouted, still restraining himself, "A bit busy at the moment dear, perhaps you could?"

"Well I am in the middle of something; these onions don't chop themselves you know! Quite being such a lazy bum and get the door!" her voice was commanding as this point, almost as to shake the houses foundation.

"Well…" Arthur searched for the words, "This tea might stain the carpet otherwise, I really should…"

"Of for heavens sake!" Margaret was clearly agitated by the laziness of her husband. She cast the knife into the sink, grabbed a towel for her hands and stormed through the kitchen. She reached the door and cast an inquisitive eye through the cheaply made "peep-hole"

"There's nothing there." She announced triumphantly as she began to step away form the door.

"Right, you heard the knock! Just open it will you?" Arthur was still bent over his sheets, gritting his teeth over the mess, strictly avoiding eye-contact evasively.

Margaret rolled her eyes derisively and returned to the access, opening slowly.

Initially, there seem to be nothing yet again, yet her eyes were slowly drawn downwards, eventually meeting with a small red creature lying quite motionless on the doorstep. Its head was twisted in a manner most uncomfortably to the left of his torso, his for paws outstretched, as if to imply desperation.

"Oh my god, what is that?" Margaret gasped as she stumbled backwards, her hands over her mouth in shock. She immediately called to Arthur, who was still steaming over his collection.

"Arthur, come quick, come and look!" Arthur was hardly enthusiastic, he lifted his head slightly and focused his eyes, tilting his glasses to the side, up a bit, then back again.

"What is it?" he said this quite exasperatedly, making it clear that he really didn't care very much at all.

"Just hurry up, come here, NOW!" Arthur broodingly walks to the door, still quite frustrated, until he saw what lay before him.

"Um, wait, that's one of those…oh what do you call 'em?" he rested his hand on the door and stroked his chin. "A red lion was it? Or a mountain fox, I don't remember." He inched closer, now stooping over. "He doesn't look to good does he?"

At that exact moment, Copper regained his consciousness. Light, colors, feeling, it was all coming back to him. It was at that point that he instinctively remembered "the sound." That beautiful sound, had it stopped? Everything still seemed so surreal.

No. There was a sound, but this was different, it seemed to resemble that of words, human words, voices. He began to stretch his legs and attempted to regain his balance. Yet as he did so, he was shocked to realize that the banter that was going on around him was actually faintly intelligible, and became more so as his awareness rose.

"Whoa, whoa, he's moving!" shrieked Margaret as she recoiled behind the door. "What if it attacks?

Arthur laughed; he couldn't find the logic in fearing such a cute harmless animal. It looked utterly helpless, and it was this helplessness that drew Arthur towards him.

"You alright little fella?" he tilted his head to the side, still beaming absolutely. "Was it you that made all this racket?"

Copper was a bit annoyed by this mans manner of speech. It seemed overtly coaxing, almost childish. He struggled to pick himself up and slowly lifted his head. What he did next was purely instinctual, for it is a simply fact that when one is spoken to he should return the favor.

"Funny," Copper said with a shake of his head, "I wanted to ask you the same question."

Arthur froze. He would have screamed but he was too shocked by what he had just witnessed. This…thing had just spoken to him. Arthur had surely lost his sanity. Speaking to a fox? It was impossible. It was ridiculous. Arthur summoned as much courage as he could and tried to suppress his fear.

"Eh…eh.. excuse me?" he spoke with a quivering voice.

Copper seemed to look through him, his eyes searching. He looked from side to side then reverted eye-contact towards the man. "Well you see…"

At that very moment, Margaret had finally returned from this kitchen, an onion in one hand and a large blunt metal shovel in the other. She didn't overhear any of the proceeding conversation but still was possessed with fear. She extended the shovel and with the full weight of her body, struck Copper upon his head. Copper didn't say a word but with his fore paws, firmly grasped his forehead, trying to scream in pain, but the pain was to great, only silence prevailed. In response, Margaret elevated the shovel a second time, and a second time she struck his forehead. This time Copper fell limply to the ground. He noticed a slight bit of red liquid on the tips of his paws, again the world grew dark. Margaret lifted the shovel once more, in a fear driven fit of rage and began the downward swing.

Arthur immediately caught her in mid-swing and cast a leering gaze, the fury in his eyes was absolutely penetrating.

"What in the bloody hell do you think you are doing, eh!" He grabbed the shovel and cast it aside. "You darn near killed the poor thing!" He rushed to the side of the fallen animal immediately checking the wound on the top of his head. He'd seen worse.

Margaret was a bit confused by this. Her intentions were pure enough. She figured it was rabid or something of the sort. She was quite impressed by her action and found no fault in it.

"Well this is the thanks I get? That thing could have easily torn you apart. I've seen it before. Really I have!" she was nagging at this point.

"Get off it," having witnessed what he saw, Arthur felt he had every right to been angry and relished in the sensation. He pointed to the closet behind him. "Get some bandages alright? Arthur scooped up the fox in his arms, selflessly unconcerned with the blood currently covering his hands. He entered the house, careful to shut the door behind him.

---In A nearby forest---

Tod ears were readily greeted with the familiar sound of forest morning activity. The pale streams of light grazed the depths of the burrow as Tod stretched his legs, expelling all the air from his lungs in a gratifying yawn. He instantly realized Vixey was no longer beside him, the bare spot upon which she habitually slept was barren and cold. Tod blearily stumbled his way to the burrows entrance. The morning air was moist and heavy. He was rather disappointed by this fact as he crept out of the burrow completely, a frown washed over his face. The random songs of the morning birds were particularly dissonant this morning and Tod writhed in the cacophony. He approached the stream in which he would normally bathe and on occasion, feed, but this was currently being occupied by another.

Vixey sat pensively at the pools edge; her eyes, filled with a certain amount of incommunicable sorrow. Every now and then she would inhale deeply and sigh, simultaneously dipping her paw in the water. She would then systematically pull said paw out of the water, shake it off a bit, pick a blade of grass, roll it into a smallish ball, cast it aside, pick up a rock, look at it, throw it into the pool, and repeat. Needless to say, Tod found the performance to be most amusing, if not a bit disturbing and depressing. Vixey rarely took to mindless mental wandering such as this. Most concern would usually be expelled through physical activity and it was this lack of activity that verily manifested the severity of her depression.

"Something wrong dear?" Tod coaxingly inched towards her, his head tilted slightly to the left, as if the accentuate his inquisition.

"You're up…?" she spoke listlessly, her attention and thoughts elsewhere; her eyes still purposefully focused on the surface of the water.

"Copper hasn't come home…" she still avoided eye contact as she continued. The tears slowly began to flow. "Why did you lie to me?" her voice quivered with anger and nervous preoccupation.

"I don't know where he went but I told no lies." He reached out to her putting his pawn to her face. He forced a smile.

Vixey slowed her breathing and looked deep into his eyes; her contempt penetrated Tod as she smacked his paw away violently. Tod recoiled in shock, staring with desperation at his wife. Vixey again extended a firm paw and again struck her husband, this time across the face. For a time, the two simply stared at one another, mutual astonishment washed across their faces. Vixey then picked herself up, turned her back and sulked off in the opposite direction, feeling defeated, manipulated, and grief-stricken as only a mother can. The forest grew silent. Tod was alone.


	3. Of Men and Mates

At that time, Vixey has contrived within her head that separation was perhaps the most logical solution for herself and Tod. There was a certain sense of maternal anxiety overwhelming her as she sulked through the woods, pondering. This was, needless to say, an action which she has seldom engaged in prior to parenthood and was thus, a bit rusty so to speak. She though about several things, in a desperate attempt to analyze exactly why she was so angry. She could not exactly centralize the blame for Copper's apparent absence on Tod entirely. It just didn't add up. He wasn't a particularly good father no matter which way one looks at it, that is most assuredly the truth. But he was neither a pathological liar, nor intrinsically that careless. Perhaps she was being a bit harsh in her Estrogen driven ire. Ah yes, of course, blame it on hormones.

She was walking quite idly and had not noticed that she was now in fact, standing at the edge of a particularly steep chasm. It was the same chasm at which Copper often took great pleasure in musing. The view was quite scenic, but she took no notice. The process of pondering was far to demanding to allow for any form of multi-tasking. She sat at the cliff-side and folded her paws submissively. She had run out of thoughts of any particular logical or importance approximately 30 seconds before and now found herself most depressed.

Verbalization. She considered the possibilities. Ah, but there goes the pondering bit again. At this moment, she preferred to act, then think, much contrary to her character.

"COPPER, WHERE ARE YOU!"

The call of desperation reverberated for several seconds, the sound bouncing off trees, ponds, leaves, houses. It died away, and for some strange reason, she was most surprised to not receive a response. She stood up this time and mentally considered a more primitive means of expression.

She fixed her slouching posture, replanted her four paws in the ground one by one as to provide physical preparation, and with a resounding wail, screamed at the top of her lungs, paying particular attention to producing as much unintelligible sound as possible. Needless to say, she verily succeeded.

What occurred next shocked the vixen as her resounding wail was met with a respondent howl. She was intrigued if not a bit frightened, but her elation did seem to get the best of her. For this was a most immediately satisfying form of frustration ventilation. Her instinct seemed to be most acceptant of the idea as well. She in turn, responded with a second wail, more vigorous and now deceptively distressed than the last.

The Howl resumed, closer this time, perhaps only a few hundred feet, perhaps less. Vixey found this particularly exciting as there remained a certain amount of hope that this howl she received in response could be under the prodigal ownership of her beloved son. She opened her mouth once more, smiling this time, preparing for one final call.

However, she was most abruptly interrupted by the very clear sound of approaching footsteps. Yet this was the pattering of one in hot pursuit. There was an equal amount of desperation in this gait. Needless to say she was jarred by the approaching being and consequently, spontaneously sought refuge within the confines of a nearby bush.

The Pursuer was in fact, another fox, a young Dog, perhaps no older than herself. She stepped out of the bush reluctantly, with careful foreboding steps of subtle apprehension.

"Ah, helloooooo my dear!" The young fox nearly jumped upon her with indescribably emotion, impossible to be perceived as aggressive or affectionate.

Vixey was quite frankly, speechless. Her mind was pondering again as various emotions waged a battle furiously within her head. Fear seemed to indeed be holding his own in the campaign but flattery was also making a prodigious fight and lust seemed to be slowly taking a position of supremacy. It can also be added that at this time, Nervousness and fear, seeing that in the grander spectrum of the conflict, were not all that different anyway, decided to join their forces in a massive alliance. However, after several negotiations and peace talks, the four governing emotions created a peaceful coalition and thus, dominated the remainder of her conversation.

The young handsome fox continued "Hm. It's a bit early in the year to be in season don't you suppose?" he cocked his head slightly to the left and took a seat upon a nearby rock.

"Eh, but I guess, if you are sure…I'd gladly….."

At that exact moment, a second fox appeared from the leeway of the chasm, this one had a particularly large bird in its mouth. His eyes searched about, darting in each direction, until the at last, fell upon Vixey, and the other dog-fox. The bird dropped from his jaw.

This second fox, based upon Vixey's most meticulous perception, as a good deal older that herself, perhaps by at least a year. And she was indeed a most prejudice Vixen. Monogamous, but most devilishly keen of a "well turned paw." This second dog, was hardly such.

"Right, off with ya! I saw her first and you know it!"

"Oh yea, but I heard the mating call first!...yea….and lookit. I got the bird!"

"She doesn't want a bird, she wants a mate and she wants to mate and I'm….."

"Excuse me miss, but you do look a bit peckish. Sure you could use a fine meal, ya?

"I told ya, she's not hungry! She jus' wants 'a mate and that's it! Go on, OFF WITH YA!"

Vixey was essentially, quite flattered that this one fine fox was so feverishly fighting over her. The was a certain sense of romanticism in this encounter that she had never had the pleasure of experiencing with Tod proceeding, during, and most certainly after their courtship. However, flattery, not being a particularly strong emotion, was quickly overwhelmed by the surmounting efforts of shock and disgust. Reality was slowly rearing its painfully concrete head again, its presence was not exactly welcomed.

It was at this moment, upon coming to her senses that she found the two dog-foxes to be engaged in an epic battle approximately 7 feet from her current position. The younger fox immediately took a vicious offensive as he clasped his canines around the older foxes left ear. The older fox, frantic with excruciating pain, committed a retaliatory strike to the length of the younger fox's back. The younger fox recoiled, but persisted his attack, moving his jaws along the brim of the others nose. A certain amount of bloodshed invariably followed. Howls of distress danced a furious macabre through the crisp morning air, the cacophony stirred within the formal auditory tranquility of the forest. The two dogs rolled violently about the forest floor; the shrieks grew progressively louder into a crescendo of horrific dissonance. Vixey remained entirely frozen, stricken immobile with paralyzing trepidation.

At last, the battle subsided, the younger fox stood triumphant, panting uncontrollably. The older fox slowly backed away, blood was slowly drawing a fine path along his gravely wounded snout. Though he seemed apprehensive in his departure, his maintained a certain air of respectability as he sank back below the peak of the chasm. Not once did he lose site of the "couple".

"Heh, good luck with that pal. She's a tart anyway." He sneered derisively at the two and then abruptly returned to the peak.

"Right, and i'm taking the bird with me!" wrestled to fix the fowl between his jaws once more, a task that proved no doubt, considerably more difficult thanks to his recent abrasions. Upon doing so, he again slunk back down the chasm, look ever so slightly more pathetic in this attempt.

Vixey's anxiety was released slightly as her body slowly faded out of its apparent rigor mortis state. She looked with a still reasonably fearful eye at the significantly disheveled dog fox to her left, panting profusely. He turned to her and gave a slight smile as he inched closer.

"Right then." He cleared his throat. "Where were we…?"


End file.
